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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752884">I promise you there’s more</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow30/pseuds/sparrow30'>sparrow30</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Meetings, Lambert is prickly, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Post-Episode: s01e06 Rare Species, but he has a good heart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:15:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow30/pseuds/sparrow30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I can’t stand the waiting,” Jaskier finally admitted. “The hours before Geralt leaves for a hunt. It feels like the calm before the storm, but then then the storm is just more waiting. Waiting to find out what state Geralt will be in when he comes back, waiting to see if he’ll even come back at all.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You care about my brother.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement of fact, but Jaskier felt compelled to reply anyway.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Of course I do,” he said. “I care about him so much, but what can I do, really? I’m not a fighter or a healer, for all that I’ve tried to learn what I can over the years.” He gave a heavy, dejected sigh. “I just...play silly songs, and wait for him to return.”</i>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Jaskier's first introduction to Lambert doesn't go quite as well as he'd hoped. He's nothing if not persistent, though, and it turns out that the two of them have more in common than they realize.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Lambert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Witcher Quick Fic #07</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I promise you there’s more</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lambert was the second of Geralt’s brothers that Jaskier met during their years travelling together. It unfortunately wasn’t the most auspicious of introductions. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The meeting in question happened after they’d traveled six days to the town of Butterthorn, having heard of a potentially lucrative contract on a nest of Wyverns in the local area. Upon arrival, however, they’d been rather apologetically informed that the contract had already been picked up, by another Witcher no less.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt had wanted to set out again right away, but their supplies were running low and Roach was in desperate need of a new set of shoes. So, in the absence of any other Witchering work available Jaskier had convinced Geralt to stay a night at the local tavern to see if he could drum up some coin from his own trade. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>“It’s their loss, really,” Jaskier said with a dismissive wave as Geralt handed Roach to the tavern’s young stableboy along with strict instructions to care for her in the manner to which she was accustomed. “To think that they could have the</span> <span>great White Wolf rid them of their problem, and instead they chose some two-bit, half rate knockoff who’ll most likely simply pocket their money and run.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d watch your tongue if I were you, before I decide you have no more use for it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jasker jumped about a foot in the air, spinning towards the barn door with an undignified yelp. A large man stood in the doorway, strong arms crossed and wearing a scowl to rival Geralt’s even at his most scowly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was also wearing a heavy silver medallion, strikingly similar to the one that hung around Geralt’s neck. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I...Master Witcher…” Jaskier stammered, holding his hands up placatingly. “Simply a jest, I assure you! I meant no offence.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He did,” Geralt said dryly. “He definitely did.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier turned back towards Geralt in surprise and hurt. He knew that their banter often devolved into gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) teasing, but Geralt had to know that his words could genuinely put Jaskier at risk if the stranger was more quick to offend than Geralt was. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before he could say anything though, Geralt was striding forward towards the stranger. “Lambert you bastard!” he exclaimed, drawing the man into a fierce hug that was just as fiercely returned. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eskel had told Jaskier all about the rest of the Wolf Witchers last time they met, including his and Geralt’s hothead younger brother Lambert. Who was apparently right here in Butterthorn, stealing their well-deserved contract out from underneath their noses.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Lambert asked as he and Geralt finally separated. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not taking out a nest of Wyverns, thanks to a certain someone.” Jaskier was surprised to hear such an obvious note of teasing in Geralt’s voice. Usually it was buried under so many layers of dry sarcasm even he struggled to find it some days.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert chuckled, clapping Geralt on the shoulder. “You snooze you lose, old man.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt laughed - actually laughed! - and finally turned back towards Jaskier. “Jask, this is my brother Lambert. Lamb, this is Jaskier.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fondness immediately dropped from Lambert’s face, replaced by another truly frightening scowl. Jaskier gave a half-hearted wave, wondering if the situation was reparable or already damaged beyond hope.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A pleasure,” Jaskier said, attempting a friendly smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert only scowled harder in response.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt looked between the two of them, a small frown appearing between his brow. He opened his mouth to say something no doubt reproving, but Lambert interrupted him with another bone-shuddering clap on the back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, what do you say to clearing out this nest together, eh? It’s been a while since we’ve been on a joint hunt.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt paused for a moment, his expression still concerned as he looked between Jaskier and Lambert, but then he grinned and nudged Lambert with his shoulder. “You know I’d never miss an opportunity to show you up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert bared his teeth, eyes glittering. “Oh, you wish.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt laughed again and dragged Lambert into a friendly headlock, and Jaskier felt a little like he’d taken one of Roach’s kicks to the chest. It was frankly surreal, seeing Geralt so open and unguarded around another person. One who wasn’t him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How about we head inside and continue this with food and ale,” Jaskier said, trying to put his most sociable face forward. “You can both enjoy a hearty meal before your hunt tomorrow, and I can regale the fine folk of this town with the heroic deeds of not one but </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> Witchers.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt raised an eyebrow at Lambert, who gave a non committal shrug. Lambert’s features had once again shuttered the moment Jaskier started talking, and Jaskier tried hard not to take it personally. He was well aware that he was something of an acquired taste, and he was sure the other Witcher would warm up to him eventually.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had to, really. Because while his and Geralt’s relationship had improved dramatically since their separation (and later reconciliation) post-dragon hunt, Jaskier wasn’t fool enough to think he stood any chance of walking away the victor if it ever came down to a choice between him and Geralt’s family. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he flashed Lambert another winning smile as he held the tavern door open for the two Witchers, and made sure to slip the barmaid some extra coin to make sure they got the good ale delivered to their table. Then he got to work with his lute making sure the patrons of the tavern knew that for that night, they were in the presence of heroes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a receptive crowd in attendance, and Jaskier made a healthy amount of coin in the hours he spent playing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, thank you,” he said, giving a sweeping bow after his last song. “It’s been a pleasure playing for you tonight, an absolute pleasure.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He bounded over to the table in the corner where Geralt and Lambert had set up camp, pleased to see that they both looked measurably more relaxed after a few pints of ale. He slipped into an empty chair, and drained most of the drink waiting for him in one go. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what did you think?” he asked cheerily, still riding the high of performing. “Three words or less.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt chuckled and leaned over to give Jaskier a quick kiss on the lips. “Moderately-filled pie,” he deadpanned, making Jaskier squark indignantly and swipe at his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You uncultured brute! Next time I shall sing about the time you tripped and fell into Roach’s freshly-produced dung, you see if I don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were good.” Lambert’s compliment caught Jaskier off guard, and he gave a little jerk of surprise as he turned towards the other Witcher.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert was looking rather awkward, like he hadn’t actually meant to say anything, and Jaskier decided to take pity on him. “See, Geralt,” he said teasingly. “That’s how you’re supposed to give a compliment. Maybe Lambert could give you some pointers.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert laughed. “Like Geralt would ever take any of my advice. Even though I am clearly the superior brother.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Clearly,” Jaskier agreed, ignoring Geralt’s harrumph of indignation next to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Fishmonger’s Daughter</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Lambert asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>Jaskier scoffed. “What sort of bard would I be if I didn’t?” He gave Lambert a conspiratorial eyebrow raise, making a show of looking around the still mostly full tavern. “Personally I prefer the </span><em><span>really </span></em><span>filthy</span> <span>version, but if I sang that here we’d most likely all get thrown out.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmmm, I suppose that’s fair.” Lambert leant back in his chair so that it balances on its two back legs, arms crossed decisively in front of him. ”But I still want the regular version.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier had to hide his grin behind his tankard as he took one last sip before standing up, grabbing his lute and strumming the familiar opening chords. “For you, dearest Lambert? Anything.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Much later, after they’d collectively called it a night and retired to their respective rooms, Jaskier lay in bed staring unseeing at the ceiling above them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt lay sleeping next to him, blissfully unconscious, but Jaskier’s thoughts were racing a mile a minute. This happened to him sometimes, often before one of Geralt’s hunts but not always. His brain running itself ragged fixating over anything and everything and nothing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stifled a sigh, admitting defeat. Sleep would not be coming for him for a while, and the longer he lay here the more likely he was to wake Geralt and rob him of precious slumber before his hunt tomorrow. He slipped out of the bed, as quiet as he knew how to be, shrugging his cloak over his underclothes before sneaking out the door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He expected the backyard of the inn to be empty at this small hour of the morning, but when he pushed open the heavy door to the outside he was surprised to see Lambert perched on the lowest step leading from the door to the yard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Jaskier whispered as Lambert twisted towards the noise of his arrival. “I’ll just-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay.” Lambert spoke at a normal volume, but in the quiet night air it sounded overly loud to Jaskier’s ears. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier paused for a second, wondering if the Witcher meant it or was just being polite, before coming to the conclusion that Lambert would most likely go out of his way to do the </span>
  <em>
    <span>opposite</span>
  </em>
  <span> of whatever he considered being polite.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay then,” he said, trotting down the few steps to perch next to Lambert. Once he was closer he could see that Lamber held a slender smoking pipe between his fingers, occasionally bringing it up to his mouth to inhale before exhaling long plumes of smoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Want some?” Lambert asked as Jaskier got settled, offering the pipe to him. Jaskier paused for a moment - he hadn’t smoked since his time at Oxenfurt - before giving a shrug and plucking the pipe from between Lambert’s fingers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What brings you out here at this hour?” he asked as he inhaled, holding the sweet-tasting smoke in his mouth for a beat before exhaling slowly. The smoke curled around their heads before disappearing into the mist, like it was never even there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier had always thought that there was something...unreal about this hour of the day. Everything seemed to exist in some sort of liminal space, like the world hadn’t quite finished putting itself together for the day ahead. He liked it, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I could say the same to you,” Lambert replied, taking his pipe back. “I would have expected you to be curled up snug as a bug with my brother right about now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt’s asleep,” Jaskier said. “I didn’t want to wake him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert said nothing, just took another drag of the pipe as he stared up at the sky above them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t stand the waiting,” Jaskier finally admitted. “The hours before Geralt leaves for a hunt. It feels like the calm before the storm, but then then the storm is just more waiting. Waiting to find out what state Geralt will be in when he comes back, waiting to see if he’ll even come back at all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You care about my brother.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement of fact, but Jaskier felt compelled to reply anyway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I do,” he said, reaching over to take the pipe from Lambert again, his hand shaking with barely repressed emotion. “I care about him so much, but what can I do, really? I’m not a fighter or a healer, for all that I’ve tried to learn what I can over the years.” He gave a heavy, dejected sigh. “I just...play silly songs, and wait for him to return.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert didn’t say anything in response, and silence fell between them for a couple of minutes as they passed the pipe back and forth. Jaskier was starting to think that Lambert would just ignore what he’d said entirely, but eventually the Witcher began to speak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate being a Witcher, you know? The others - Eskel, Geralt, and especially old Vesemir - they all think of it as good, noble calling. The work is hard, but it has to be done, and they’re the ones to do it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve heard Geralt say something along those lines before, yes,” Jaskier agreed, not quite sure what Lambert was getting at.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But me? I just hate it.” Lambert scowled down at his hands which had clenched in his lap. “I didn’t choose this hideous, fucked up life, but somehow I’m still stuck with it. Stuck with the monsters taking chunks out of me, and the asshole villagers throwing rocks at my head, and the lords who think they can pay me with a feast when all I want to do is collapse and sleep for a hundred years. And for what? So that I can spend year after miserable year trudging this hateful Path until I eventually get slow and die alone in a pool of my own blood?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He turned to face Jaskier, eyes blazing with such a depth of feeling that for a moment Jaskier forgot how to breathe. “Do you know what I would do to have someone waiting for me? To have someone who thought I might actually be worth waiting for?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier was pretty sure he felt his heart crack in two.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knew all too well that a Witcher’s life was hard, and often thankless, but Geralt had always seemed mostly content with his lot in life. While there might be specific instances that he complained about, Jaskier didn’t think Geralt would ever consider being anything other than exactly what he was. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t even begin to fathom what it must be like for Lambert, to hate everything about who he was and what he had to do, with absolutely no resource for change.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you see?” Lambert continued when Jaskier didn’t offer up anything of his own. “You don’t need to do anything more. You just need to carry on doing what you do best.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And what’s that?” Jaskier couldn’t help but ask</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert sighed, all the fire suddenly drained from his voice and replaced with a bone-deep tiredness. “Just....love Geralt. Love him like he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier had been wrong before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the moment his heart cracked in two.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to do anything else,” Jaskier admitted softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Lambert said, sounding truly genuine despite everything. “I’m glad that one of us gets to have this, at least.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be waiting for you as well, tomorrow,” Jaskier said, realizing as soon as he said it that it was true. “I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I’m reasonably sure you’re worth waiting for just as much as Geralt.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert huffed, like Jaskier was making some joke at his expense.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell you what,” Jaskier said more decisively. “You come back in one piece tomorrow, and I’ll play you every dirty verse of every dirty song I know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That forced a slightly strangled laugh out of Lambert. “I don’t think there are enough hours in the day for that.”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier tapped a finger against his chin in consideration. “Hmm. Okay, all the dirty verses of all your favorite songs, then.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert raised a challenging eyebrow at Jaskier. “I’ll make a list, shall I?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You do that. And I shall play them as part of a welcoming procession when you return. Every. Single. One.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert paused, looking so intently at Jaskier that he wondered if he was trying to stare into his soul. Jaskier forced himself not to squirm under the attention, to let Lambert look his fill and (hopefully) decide that he wasn’t to be found wanting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally Lambert gave a decisive nod. “Alright, I believe you, bard.” He took one final inhale of his pipe before covering the chamber to put it out. “And now I think it’s time for bed. Gotta get my beauty sleep if I’m going to get back in one piece and earn my reward, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the spirit,” Jaskier said as Lambert stood up and brushed loose dirt off the back of his tunic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert was almost through the door back inside the inn when Jaskier called out to him, not wanting to jeopardize this careful friendship that seemed to be forming between them, but unable to let him leave without asking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You will look after Geralt tomorrow, won’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lambert turned back and gave him a grin that was all teeth, looking feral and dangerous in the soft glow of the moonlight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Always,” he said, voice ringing with a conviction that Jaskier so rarely heard from anyone any more. “Always.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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